


Spun from Gold

by TweedRacer



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Courtship, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW in later chapters, Regency Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Yearning, pride and prejudice au, ted plays the piano
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TweedRacer/pseuds/TweedRacer
Summary: Theodore Logan is the son of the respectable Constable Logan, the eldest and first to inherit the Wayside Estate and a considerably handsome man. His whole life is set in stone ahead of him and he should be grateful for that; but when a mysterious Mr. Preston moves into the sprawling estate of Highfield Theodore may finally get to step off the path that's been laid for him.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> LISTEN!!!! I'm a sucker for two things:
> 
> BnT and Jane Austen romance novels.
> 
> INSPIRED BY @minacoleta REGENCY!AU ART ON TWITTER PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER ART IT'S SO GOOD

Theodore has always found early autumn days to the most agreeable. His nature ran naturally warm, his blood even more so- and the small bite of chill in the air pressed cool against his red cheeks made it easier for him to enjoy longer walks out in the gardens. 

Such was what occupied him at the moment. He strolled through Wayside Estate’s meager property in clothes that did very little to shield him from the wind. His father, Constable Logan, griped that one day he would catch his death from these silly walks and that his time was better spent looking through the estate’s books or, far less appealing, finding a wife. 

He lacked the patience for balancing books and lacked the delicate social touch for most women of higher society. Both confused him to no end; but nevertheless his father insisted, sending his eldest son out in his finest linens to each dance and dinner that graced the green hills of Tunstead. 

Such a function was fast approaching as a massive ball was to be thrown to welcome the newest residents of Highfield; a large manor that sat atop a towering hill. The massive property had remained empty for the better part of Theodore’s life, most residents either lacking the funds or interest in maintaining such an amount of land. However, if the gossip was to be believed, the place was purchased in full by a young man of great fortune who would be fully moved in by the end of the week. Theodore’s younger brother, Deacon, had already made his way around the circles of local gossip and found out what was known by the chatty mouths of Tunstead’s scandlemongers. His brother was far better suited to the life of a socialite; he was charming and smart, he made acquaintances with ease and had no trouble sitting down with a quill and ink to balance books for hours on end. It seemed as though Deacon’s only fault was that he was born second. 

Constable Logan would never fail to remind Theodore of the fact that his younger brother exceeded him in every way. The Constable, Theodore’s father, was an aggrieved man who’s favorite past time involved bickering and pointing out his eldest son’s flaws. Theodore pondered the curiosity of his father’s permanently soured mood, as often pondered many things, and such pondering came to a head with the conclusion that the Constable was simply a bitter balding widower with a penchant for seeing the flaws in every man but himself.

Theodore puffed out a breath as he made his way back up the slope to his home at the Wayside Estate. Perhaps estate was an inflated title. It was by no means a squalor home, after all, his father had remained employed even after his mother’s death. But it lacked the finesse and modern decor that those of a higher status boasted. It needed a new coat of paint, and the washrooms could use some repair but it was a decent structure nonetheless. 

The heavy oaken doors made a low groan as they were pushed open (perhaps that was another thing that needed mending) and Theodore made his way to the modest dayroom on the easternmost side of the house. It was bordered wall to wall with bookcases, the volumes lining its shelves remained untouched by the eldest Logan but those was not the reason for his delight in this room. No, what made this place a haven for Theodore was the simple pianoforte and the english guitar that sat propped up against a sturdy tea table. 

Ted’s love for the arts was one of his many let downs in his father’s eyes. The Constable viewed instrumentalists as simpleminded laggards with no prospects. Music was a hobby that should be indulged only by the finer sex and a man’s time was better spent gaining revenue or counting coins. 

The sun was fresh on the horizon, a soft yellow glow peeking through the near-barren branches of trees and spilling into the room. His father and brother would not wake for another hour at least and Theodore would take advantage of this silent time for all it was worth. The quiet of the house, only occasionally disturbed by the shuffling footsteps of servants, was sacred to him. It was the only time in his day that he was able to practice his instruments without the feel of his father’s disapproving eyes over his shoulder. 

He sat on the creaky old bench in front of the pianoforte, long fingers extending to play tentatively over the keys; reveling in the subtle vibrations against his fingertips and the softness of the notes in his ears. Ted let out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding, closing his eyes and beginning to pluck out a tune that had been stuck in his brain from the previous evening. 

As with every composition, the music formed behind his eyes like paintings. The song conjured an autumn afternoon with two companions sitting atop a hill. Leaves danced playfully in chilled air. White linens billowed like sails. A simple basket full of painstakingly crafted treats. Rays of light cast a golden veneer over a lush countryside. 

The sun flooding through the windows of the dayroom warned Ted of the actively waking world. He should finish his song, should duck away to his bed and hide till breakfast was called. But he could not tear his fingers away from the keys as though the notes held him hostage. He continued to play, brows furrowing as he focused, chasing that autumn daydream. 

“You should finish before father comes downstairs.” the notes balked suddenly as Ted was pulled from his trance, eyes blinking open. Deacon stood in the archway of the room, already dressed in a simple coat and vest; his black leather boots ill fitting hand-me-downs from Ted’s own wardrobe. 

“I was finished.” Ted lied, wiping his palms on the legs of his pants and ducking behind his thick curtain of dark hair. Deacon was not nearly as judgemental of Theodore’s hobbies as their father. In fact, Ted has spotted his younger brother on more than one occasion plucking out rudimentary notes on the English guitar when he thought no one was watching. The two of them were alike in that respect, both indulging in small vices when their father’s back was turned. 

The sound of heavy boots descending the stairs gave Ted enough of a warning to scramble off the chair, cheeks red as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. His father, already fully dressed in his uniform, strode past the doorway- not even bothering with a greeting as the kitchen staff announced breakfast. The two brothers exchanged a glance, Ted thankful that he had yet to eat otherwise he would most surely be pushing his meal back down from nerves. 

As the family sat down to a modest but hearty meal, the room remained silent save for the occasional scrape and clink of silverware. Constable Logan thumbed through letters while Ted stared blankly down at his plate, quietly shoving the food into neat, untouching piles.

The Constable made a small, grumbling noise as he picked up a letter- wrinkled brow furrowing as he read through the black scrawl of ink. Ted glanced up from behind his hair, tracking his father’s expression for any sign of upset or anger that he might be the cause of. His father only huffed again, placing the letter down to grab another while the silence in the room became thicker. Finally, it was broken;  
“Theodore.”

“Yes, sir?” 

“You’re going with your brother this afternoon to Highfield to welcome the new residents.”  
“Why?” the question escaped him before he could think to stop it, natural curiosity evading his common sense. The Constable’s sharp gaze felt like a physical jab from where he glanced up from his letters, the lines on his face growing deeper as he scowled. Theodore could feel a thin layer of sweat form on his back. 

“Because I have already sent word to Mr. Preston and it would be rude to go back on it. The man is new and, supposedly, he has brought with him two distant cousins.” he flipped a page, looking back down at his reading. “They say Ms. Joanna and Ms. Elizabeth are fine young women with good fortunes. It’d behoove you to make their acquaintance.”

_Ah._

So that’s why his father was so adamant on this visit. As previously stated, the Logans were by no means a _poor_ family; and Wayside was, by no means, an impoverished estate. However, even with two adult sons, Constable Logan remained the only source of income- and with no consistent employment in sight for his eldest, a hefty dowry seemed to be the only way Theodore would ever get an ounce of coin. 

Ted bobbed his head silently, looking down at his barely touched meal. He’d have to mentally prepare himself to handle strangers; it wasn’t that he was a particularly anxious individual, actually quite the opposite, Theodore loved company. However, most company did not love him in return. His social graces were lacking and his habit of speaking his mind directly was not a favored trait to most members of the public. 

The rest of the Logans’ meal finished in usual silence, the only conversation directed at the servants to prep the carriage. Ted managed to put away a bit more of his food, knee bouncing as he gathered his thoughts before excusing himself to his room to dress. Theodore was a relatively difficult man to clothe, not that he wasn’t fairly attractive, but rather because of his long arms and legs. 

Tailors were an expensive luxury that he was not often indulged in so the clothes that did fit were usually more than a little worn. He did have a few nice ensembles that he brought out for special occasions, and to visit a man who had fortune enough to purchase Highfield qualified as such an event. As Ted dressed his mind wandered to the topic of this mysterious Mr. Preston who had already captured the interest of the townsfolk.

He knew that the man was very wealthy, as was common knowledge, and that he had brought along two distant cousins, a Ms. Joanna and a Ms. Elizabeth, but was otherwise living alone. This piece of information would not have been notable if it weren’t for the lingering rumor that Mr. Preston was not only quite young, being at the very most the same age as Theodore, but also incredibly handsome. The town gossips concluded there must be something horribly wrong with him. He must have a temper or a love of drinks or gambling, for it was near impossible for there to exist a handsome, rich, _and_ amiable man who remained a bachelor. 

Fully dressed, Ted stood in front of the mirror a moment longer, examining his reflection with a keen eye before practicing his smile. Forcing politeness never came naturally to him and his father often commented that his genuine smile showed too many teeth. Resigning that he would bear no more improvement, he turned to his door, walking down the stairs as quietly as he could to find his youngest brother waiting for him. Despite taking a carriage, Deacon wore riding boots and gloves, looking about as excited as Theodore felt. Which was to say, not very. 

“Do you suppose Mr. Preston will be excited to see two total strangers in his sitting room so early in the day?” Deacon teased in a quiet voice, walking alongside his brother as the two ducked their way inside the coach. 

“Better that those strangers are you and I rather than the Constable” Ted sighed, flopping down gracelessly onto the seat, long legs splaying out across the far too small floorspace. Deacon only rolled his eyes but nodded his agreement, the two falling into silence as the carriage began its clunky ascent towards Highfield. 

The ride was not a long one but Ted’s discomfort was palpable. His foot bounced incessantly as he stared out at the passing scenery, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and squirming in his spot. He was not prone to indulging in rumors but even he had to admit that the math of this ‘Mr. Preston’ did not quite add up. His finger drummed against his thigh, playing invisible keys and humming to himself to pass the time; attempting to wrestle his thoughts into some form of coherence.

It was less than a half hour till they saw the impressive silhouette of Highfield rise from the rolling landscape. Wayside was, objectively, a nice estate but there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was a _proper_ manor. A well-stocked pond lay in the center of a sprawling garden, lush green grass flanking y’all marble statues of indiscernible shapes. Gardeners and houseworkers hurried about with their morning chores, standing at attention as their coach pulled into the curled cobblestone driveway.

A man in a refined black and red uniform bowed as the carriage doors opened, nodding politely to the brothers as they stepped down to stand in front of intimidatingly large black doors. The three exchanged polite greetings as they were led through the impressive entryway and endless wide halls that stretched on for what felt like miles. Theodore’s head craned around to look at the paintings that decorated the walls; It was hard to pick up details of the artwork but as they were brought to a halt outside of the sitting room that Theodore was finally given the chance to examine one up close. 

It was quite tall, a fair bit larger than most of the others, and depicted a man who was perhaps a year or two younger than Ted, in a long dark coat and tall leather boots. His hair was a golden blonde that framed chiseled features frozen in a permanently stony expression. Hazel eyes stared down at him with an almost uninterested air, pink lips curled imperceptibly into a frown. 

Something about it reminded him of his father. 

“Mr. Deacon Logan, Mr. Theodore Logan. Master Preston will see you now” the manservant’s stuffy voice cut through Ted’s thoughts and he felt his stomach dip anxiously. He would surely have to sit through terse conversation with a man he did not know while trying to hold his own foolish tongue.

The room was decorated with only the most modern furniture, plush couches and chairs were artfully arranged with both comfort and style in mind; and at its center, brushing lint from an otherwise spotless cream colored vest stood the most handsome man Theodore had ever seen.

He was a head or so shorter than Ted, with those same golden blonde curls he had seen on the painting outside; but whereas the man in the picture looked put-upon and frustrated, the one in front of him was smiling in this lazy smirking way and giving a half-bow as he approached.

As he came closer, Ted could better see his romanesque features. Those curls, which Ted had assumed were exaggerated for the sake of art, were a genuine shade of gold, carefully styled to frame a sharp jaw and easy smile.

“You must be the Mr. Logans I was told would call on me today.” the blonde announced, looking between the two of them expectantly. Deacon, ever the more socially adventurous, took a step forward and held out his hand with a grin. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Preston. I must say, you’ve become quite the talk of the town already.” Mr. Preston let out a small laugh and gave Deacon a handshake before turning to Ted with his hand held out expectantly. “I have? Well I must say I hope I don’t disappoint” his handshake was strong and Ted found himself fixating on the rough calluses he could feel on the other man’s fingers. 

Theodore didn’t realize he was still holding onto Mr. Preston’s hand until the blonde raised his brow, not pulling away but rather waiting patiently, sleepy eyes sparking with mischief until Ted finally pulled back, biting the inside of his cheek in embarrassment.

“So.” Mr. Preston began, moving back to address the brothers “I’m afraid I’m egregiously underprepared to entertain guests, but perhaps I can treat you to a stroll around the gardens or the property if that sounds agreeable?” Theodore felt the pressure of needing to talk sit on his shoulders like a gargoyle; he knew he should say _something_ . He was the _eldest_ , he shouldn’t let his little brother speak for him he was being _stupid_ he- 

“That sounds wonderful, Mr. Preston” Deacon piped up, quick to fill the silence his brother left. The blonde raised his hand, waving it with a grin.  
“Please, I do so despise formal titles. Bill will do well enough.” With each bob and motion Ted’s eyes fell to Mr. Pres- to _Bill’s_ curls, which bounced around his face as thought it had a mind of its own. Ted could only nod mutely, gaze darting around as he avoided looking into the statuesque face that stared back at him. 

The blonde continued to watch Theodore with an unreadable expression, the wheels in his head turning, before he clapped with a smile, turning to nod to the both of them. “Then let us get along then, shall we?” Ted felt his stomach twist nervously and he attempted a small smile that felt phony on his face. 

This was going to be a _long_ visit. 

  
  
  


Objectively, Ted knew that Highfield was impressive, _everyone_ knew that. But it wasn’t until he was following along behind Bill that he got an idea of just _how_ large it was.

The marble stone floors were spotless and the ceiling was so high up that Ted would have to bend his neck back uncomfortably to get a good look at them. 

Deacon, as usual, held most of the conversation; chatting easily and engaging in polite compliments. Ted would occasionally interject with his own observation, his voice making Bill turn to look at him and hang on every word, turning Ted’s face red from the attention. As they strolled along, they passed a mostly empty room, its white double doors propped open and allowing a small glance of its contents. 

Ted halted in his step, falling behind as he stared, wide-eyed. The room was more or less barren, with very little in the way of furniture save for a few chairs pushed against the bright cream colored walls. What had captured his focus, however, was the beautiful piano that rested in the light of tall windows. It was _gorgeous,_ and his hands twitched at his sides with a need to run his fingers over the keys. 

“Do you play, Mr. Logan?” Bill’s voice at his side made him jump, shoulders tense when he turned to see the blonde gaze up at him with genuine curiosity. 

“Oh… yes… a bit” he admitted quietly, gaze flicking away and back towards the beautiful instrument inside. 

“Bill, do not let my brother be so modest! He is one of the best musicians in Tunstead, I would put my monthly salary on it” Deacon stepped up on Ted’s other side, giving his shoulder a small pat.

“You don’t have a monthly salary” Ted blurted out. Deacon’s hand tensed, fingers digging in at his social transgression. Theodore winced but his apology was cut off by Bill’s surprised laugh; and when he turned to look at the smaller man his expression was that of untethered joy. His grin held none of the malice or ridicule that Ted had expected, but instead elated humor. 

“Well, salary or not, I would be most honored to hear you play, Mr. Logan. If you would be so inclined to treat me?” Ted’s gaze found Bill’s. The man’s lidded eyes and pink lips made him appear almost cherubic, like the paintings of angels he’s seen in churches. Ted’s throat worked as he tried to find words before giving up and only nodding his agreement. 

He was unable to stop the excited tapping of his palms against the outside of his thighs as he approached the instrument. The keys were a porcelain white, smiling up at him when he extended his hands to run his fingers reverently across them. Slowly, he sat on the piano bench, making a noise of surprise as it failed to creak under his weight unlike the one at home. 

The first few notes rang in his ears and he let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering at the clearness of its tone. The tension from his shoulders began to melt as he warmed his hands up along the bars, a small tune forming at the tips of his fingers before drifting into song. It was a simple composition, one he’d memorized by heart. The notes were playful and bright as they filled the empty room, sound bouncing off the walls to envelop the three men. The lilting melody brought out a warm summer, a ride on horseback to a secret wateringhole, bare skin tanning beneath an almost oppressive heat before dipping into the icy chill of water. 

Each note danced behind his eyes and he found himself smiling. His gaze fixated on his moving hands as they ran across the keys, muscle memory taking the lead as Ted hung on for the ride. As the song came to a close his hands stopped, fingers still brushing the instrument’s smooth surface as he came back to himself. 

In his trance he hadn’t noticed Bill approach, leaning forwards with his chin resting in his palm as he watched slack jawed. The two held each other's gaze, neither breathing before Bill leaned back, clapping and looking over his shoulder to where Deacon had settled on one of the scarce chairs in the room. 

“Mr. Logan! That was _most_ impressive! I must say I didn’t know what to expect but your talents are unmatched by any bard I’ve met! You must join me in a song someday! Pray tell, where did you study?” words fell from his mouth like an open spigot, his voice pitching a bit higher in his excitement as he leaned over the edge of the piano. Theodore blinked, shocked by the genuine _awe_ Bill had for what Ted considered to be a rather crude level of skill. Bill’s excitement was contagious and even Theodore, who was quite uneasy with praise, found himself smiling at the blonde’s enthusiasm.  
“I have never studied under any instructor, Mr. Preston. Merely what I learned from my mother and the occasional practice there on.”

“Mr. Logan- I _insist_ , Mr. Preston is far too formal.” he scooted around the instrument to stand at Ted’s shoulder, nearly bouncing on his toes with delight. 

“ _Bill._ ” Ted corrected himself, his hands drumming on his thighs as he felt the other man’s energy influence his own. “It seems I must thank your mother personally, then, for inspiring such an instrumentalist.” the mood in the room suddenly shifted, Ted’s smile souring and his gaze lowering to his pants where he scrubbed his fingers on the fabric to distract himself with a muted sound.

“Our mother actually passed when we were both quite young so I’m afraid that will not be possible.” Deacon explained, standing and brushing wrinkles from his clothes. Bill made a soft noise and when Ted glanced up the look in his eyes was more than just pity. 

It was _understanding_. 

Ted felt his mouth open to comment on it, but was cut off by Deacon stepping closer, clearing his throat with a cough. “But, I was right, wasn’t I? Theodore is the best at the piano in all of Tunstead. And his skills on the english guitar are equally substantial.” The air lightened slightly as Bill turned back to Ted with a soft smile, not as wide as before but every bit as genuine.

“The english guitar? Mr. Logan you are riddled with most _unprecedented_ surprises- we really _must_ collaborate one day. I do not go so far as to fancy myself your equal in the musical arts but it would be an exceptional honor for you to join me in the near future.” the blonde extended his hand to rest it on Theodore’s shoulder, the touch feeling warm and heavy even beneath Ted’s coat. 

“Yes, I do agree… Not that it would be an honor for you! I mean- well. What I meant was it would be honorable- wait-” Ted frantically tried to find his words, cheeks growing red as he floundered. His eyes screwed shut, feeling overwhelmed as he scrambled to say something that made sense.

The hand on his shoulder remained warm and steady, filling Ted with some feeling he could not identify but he clung to anyways, clearing his throat before blinking to look at the unwavering smile of a Mr. William Preston. 

“I would love to.” Ted finally choked out, glancing back down at the keys of the piano and attempting to ignore the nervous sweat that had begun to gather in the small of his back. When Bill removed his hand the warmth that had gathered there left with it, leaving Ted feeling more than a little lost as the conversation picked up once again. 

“Perhaps you would like to see the gardens? They’re a little unkempt at the moment due to the season but I can promise what flowers are still around are quite beautiful.” 

“That sounds brilliant, Bill. Theodore and I would love to-” 

“Is it okay if I stay in here?” Ted blurted out suddenly, unable to stop the thought from leaving his mouth. The two men turned to look at him and Ted felt himself shrink under their gazes. Deacon looked frustrated, trying to silently communicate the rudeness of Ted’s request. But Bill seemed… unbothered. A little disappointed, maybe, but not angry. 

“Of course Mr. Logan! Take all the time you need- you are welcome to play as long as you like. If you need anything please, just ask any of the attendants and they will see to you. Now! Mr. Deacon Logan- let us take what will surely be a triumphant excursion to the statue garden.” 

The two men left with amiable conversation, Deacon casting an aggravated glance over his shoulder as they left the room. Ted waited, fingers fidgeting till he could no longer hear their voices in the hall before setting his hands on the claviature with a quiet breath. His eyes closed habitually, letting the music fill his mind as he followed its lead. It wasn’t uncommon for him to improvise a composition; occasionally his hands would begin to move without his consent and he would find himself trailing after it like a lost dog, merely listening while his body moved independently.

Music echoed back into his ears as he let his hands move, long fingers spanning out over the keys while fanciful visions berated his mind’s eye. Most of the time he would see flashes, little half-second portraits of whatever world he was creating. 

But this was not quite the same. He’d never followed a song like this, a song that guided him through a vibrant, vivid landscape in an almost dreamlike sequence. A cool autumn wind brushed his cheeks and his breath left a puff of fog in the air from exertion as he ran up a steep hill. His long legs could only carry him so fast but he pursued a shape in the distance, a shape he couldn’t quite define with his eyes but could _feel_ in his chest. 

His brows furrowed and his hands moved faster, shadowing the vigorous bounding of each stride. The music was still warm, but desperation grew beneath it- a desire, a _longing_ for whatever waited for him at the top of the hill making him push his body past its limits. Just as he was there, hands scrambling against the earth as he attempted to reach the top of the hill- 

Then it disappeared.

The music came to a jarring halt and he let out a frustrated groan, eyes opening to glare at nothing. Ted searched for the tune again, hands dilly-dallying and plucking out random notes in search of it but nothing came, leaving him vexed and absent-minded. With a heaving sigh he straightened, unaware of how long he had been curled over the piano and glanced out the window. Ted jerked up suddenly, the purple and gold streaks of light in the sky telling him he’d apparently been lost to the music much longer than he’d initially thought.

“I was wondering when you’d look up” 

Ted jumped about a foot in the air, arms and legs flailing as he fell backwards off the piano bench and onto the cold ground with a thud. Bill’s laugh was the first thing he heard and Theodore felt himself swell with mortification, hands flying up to cover his face in shame. 

“Come now, Mr. Logan. I’m certain the floor isn’t _that_ comfortable.” Bill’s words were broken by giggles and when Ted finally peeked through his fingers to look up at the man his breath caught tight in his chest. The warm light from the setting sun made Bill’s hair shine like spun gold, curls framing his face in a gently illuminated halo. And for the briefest moment Ted was tempted to pull a strand just to watch it bounce back into place. 

Bill held his hand out as an offering, ready to help hoist the taller man back up. Ted sighed, taking the offer and stumbling back up with a grunt, brushing off his pants with an embarrassed thank you. The blonde leaned against the leg of the piano, watching Ted with his lips curled up into a grin. A heartbeat passed between them before Theodore realized what it meant to have stayed so late, his head spinning around in search of Deacon- 

“Your brother left some time ago.” Bill said, nodding to the quickly darkening sky. “I told him I would send you home in one of my carriages as soon as you were finished. I apologize, I meant to stop you earlier but your playing was so beautiful it would have been a crime to disturb it.” the blonde’s face grew red with a patchy blush that extended across the apples of his cheeks as he tugged a curl bashfully. Ted smiled, glancing away to gather himself while Bill continued to talk.

“I really am impressed with you, Mr. Logan- I’ve never seen someone with that level of skill who hasn’t been trained by one of the masters.” Bill leaned further into the piano, legs sticking out diagonally as he propped himself up against the instrument. The juxtaposition of his expensive clothing and his lazy pose was enough to make Ted chuckle, a smile inching its way onto his features. Bill’s own smile widened at the noise, looking all too pleased with himself at making the other man laugh and Bill determined that he would hear that delightful noise again if it killed him.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you letting me use your instrument.” Ted said softly, clasping his hands in front of him to keep them from fidgeting. 

“It really is no trouble Mr. Logan, the poor thing hasn’t had someone competent at her keys for a while, it’s a relief to finally see it put to good use” Bill explained, feet slipping a bit on the smooth floor- only serving to further exaggerate his position. Ted cocked his head at that, brows furrowing, 

“Do you not play, Mr. Preston?” Bill’s face twisted slightly, embarrassment clear on his delicate features.

“Well, not so well as you. I am more inclined to indulge in the english guitar or the violin if I had to pick my poison so to speak. I’m familiar with the harp but my playing is quite heinous, my cousins will tell you it sounds as though the poor instrument had fallen down the stairs and onto a cat” another laugh bubbled from Ted’s chest, the imagery making his shoulders shake with amusement. 

Bill stared, smile spreading impossibly wider as the air between them relaxed, a comfort settling into place as though they had known the other for years. Conversation came to them easily and Ted found the tension in his shoulders melting away, their words shifting from polite conversation to discussion of each other’s interests. Ted learned that Bill’s cousins were a few days behind him in travel and would be arriving late tomorrow evening while Bill learned that Ted was the eldest son of the Constable and was set to inherit Wayside after his father’s death. 

“-though the thought of managing the estate sounds most odious” Theodore sighed, shifting his weight as his feet began to hurt from standing before he resigned himself to sit back on the piano bench with a graceless thunk. 

“Odious? Why is that? Does being the master of your own land not please you?” Bill asked, leaning his weight almost entirely onto the pianoforte as the length of their conversation extended well past another hour. Despite the time, Bill did not look any less interested in Ted’s words, something he was not used to but no less grateful for.

“Being the master of _anything_ sounds odious to me, my colleague.” Ted sighed. Bill hummed, attempting to understand the other man’s plight as he settled his chin on his hand and blew air through his lips in a most unrefined manner. 

“Then what _would_ please you, Mr. Logan?” 

Ted hummed, craning his neck back to look at the ceiling in thought and clicking his tongue loudly a few times. What _would_ please him? Most men would be considered lucky to be in his position. He had decent estate, a father with some social status as Constable, and a modest but comfortable amount of coin. He was, for all intents and purposes, a decently respectable member of society; which was a good deal more than many other folks. Ted should be _grateful_ for his place in the world and his near guaranteed future… but…

“Mr. Preston, If I were to give you an answer in this moment I would be a liar” 

“For that I cannot fault you.” Bill nodded solemnly as they two lapsed into silence. Each man remained in his own thoughts, the quiet between them unusually tranquil considering their short time together. The light outside had long since passed, the servants having tiptoed in and lit the lanterns a while ago

Ted glanced outside, stomach dropping when he was greeted with the darkness of night, fingers beginning to pull on the cuff of his sleeve nervously. Surely he’s overstayed his welcome, many people could hardly stand talking to him for longer than polite conversation necessitated- let alone for hours and hours like Bill had. The taller man stood, still rubbing the fabric of his sleeve absently. 

“Mr. Preston, I apologize. I did not realize how late it had gotten- I should probably le-”

“Mr. Logan.” Bill interrupted suddenly, his own interjection surprising him. “Could I perhaps tempt you to spend the evening in Highfield? I-It’s not safe to travel by night. Really- I insist you to take the spare room on the upper floor.” the blonde’s voice seemed genuine and when Theodore met his gaze his eyes were equally so. Ted paused, still worrying the fabric between his fingers before replying in a quiet, confused voice-

“It would be my pleasure to accept this excellent request of yours, Mr. Preston.” he said, smile spreading wide as Bill sat up from where he’d been slouched. 

“Mr. Logan?”

“Yes Mr. Preston?”

“May I solicit one last favor of you?” 

“Of course, Mr. Preston.”

“Call me Bill.”

“..... I will agree to these terms on one condition.”

“Yes Mr. Logan?”

“Call me Ted.”


	2. Chapter 2

The following days after Theodore’s return to Wayside were filled with a blistering discomfort as his father’s typical foul disposition grew worse the closer the days drew towards the banquet. The entire Logan family was scheduled to attend in their finest clothes in the early evening and leave _only_ after the two brothers had danced with every eligible woman in attendance; _particularly_ Mr. Preston’s two cousins, who were known to be very wealthy and of great beauty. 

The thought of having to stand through hour after hour of polite conversation and dance with people he’s known for too long to be comfortable with made Ted’s stomach churn anxiously and as he paced his dimly lit bedroom he could not help but consider faking illness to avoid having to attend. While this was certainly a tried and true method, his desire to one more meet with Mr. Bill Preston outweighed his trepidation of what would no doubt be the biggest ball of the season. Despite having only talked once at length, Ted already considered the blonde man to be a beloved acquaintance; with his good humor and seemingly identical values it felt as though the two of them had known each other over lifetimes rather than hours. 

Theodore stopped to consider his own reflection in the mirror, examining his deep navy coat and riding pants which were cut a bit too high on the leg to be fashionable. Though fashion and trends rarely concerned him, he found himself nervously checking his silhouette. What, he wondered, would Bill be wearing? The man surely had the finest attire in all of Tunstead and would undoubtedly outshine every man or woman present. In the darkness of his room, Ted failed to notice his own blush as he turned away to flop face first onto his small bed. 

Bill had called on him three times after his visit, all in the form of small letters asking his opinion over trivial matters regarding the banquet. These letters confused him to no end as Ted was not familiar with throwing a banquet nor had he expressed any particular conviction for the occasion. If Theodore were a more optimistic man he might’ve assumed that these short correspondences were so that Bill might get an opportunity to speak with him... But even _he_ was not so naive to think that a man of Mr. Preston’s status would actively desire the company of Theodore, who was notorious for being disliked and ill mannered. 

It was only polite engagement between... neighbors. 

The Constable actively encouraged these exchanges, (for Mr. Preston was a respectable man and would no doubt pass along any favorable words to his unwed cousins), though father’s goodwill quickly waned when he was informed that Ms. Joanna and Ms. Elizabeth would not be present in Highfield till the morning of the ball.

“ _It is incredibly rude for them to be so late in travel. What could possibly slow their procession to such an improper pace!_ ”. Theodore, of course, made no comment to provide that the reason for the ladies’ delay was an illness on Ms. Joana’s part out of fear that he would receive a no doubt heinous scolding. 

With the day of the festivities finally upon them, Ted found himself fully dressed and ready to depart hours before they had planned to leave. The early autumn sun had burnt off a few strips of fog in its painstaking descent towards the hillside and the weak light of his bedroom left him to stew restlessly in the near darkness. 

Theodore groaned, rubbing his palms on the fabric of his pants in an attempt to satiate his desire to move while waiting for the Constable to call him down. In times like this he would rather be at the keys of his pianoforte, funneling his energy into song until their departure but his father often complained that his son’s playing put him in a foul mood and so such a diversion would be ill advised.

Ted clicked his tongue, jumping up from his bed to pace a few more times around his room. He heard a low thud underfoot, no doubt from his father attempting to halt his bothersome habit from his bedroom on the lower floor. He groaned, stepping lightly towards his bed and tossing himself onto it with a long sigh, glaring impatiently at the chipped ceiling as though it had personally wronged him. His fingers danced across his thighs as he forced his eyes to close, playing an imaginary tune and dragging himself from reality with slow breaths. 

The music formed in his head as he created a private reality. Though he would much rather have an actual piano in front of him this would have to suffice. He played a gamesome song, the type that was meant to inspire dance and celebration with its cheery tune and upbeat tempo.

Flippant and jovial, it swam in the air above a field of vibrant wildflowers; coruscating colors complimenting smooth ivory skin and a patchwork blush on the grecian features of a daydream. The reverie’s undefined profile did nothing to reduce its beauty and Theodore found his music waxing poetic over a pair of pink lips, pulled wide into a coltish grin. His eyes flew open when his fingers brushed across an unexpected tent in his pants, the provocative nature of his vision having clearly had an effect on the rest of his body.

Theodore’s throat bobbed as he deliberated, weighing the decision of whether or not he’d acquiesce to his more… _base_ desires. Brown eyes took in the still setting sun, only now beginning to just touch the horizon. Ted bit the inside of his cheek, knowing he was losing his moral battle when his hips twitched up needily towards the palm of his hand. The friction forced a tightened breath between his lips and he became _keenly_ aware of how much time had passed since he’d last availed himself to his own primeval indulgences....

…...He had at _least_ another two hours….

Abandoning his shame with a sigh, Ted let his eyes flutter closed as his hand moved to clumsily unbutton the front of his trousers. He pulled himself from his underclothes with a muffled moan, brows pitching together as he gave himself an experimental tug. His fingers ran agonizingly slow across his own shaft as he bit back another whimper and focused purely on the sensation of his own hand.

With an uncoordinated but steady rhythm, he teased himself till his erection was leaking and red, the rough calluses of his fingers setting off little sparks behind his eyes as his mind began to wander. Usually his fantasies were enigmatic and vague, more of a _feeling_ than a vision; but at present his strokes saw the likeness of plush lips, chapped and a little bruised from being worn between teeth. Their cherry-red color made his hips jerk again, desperate as the dream pulled an easy smile; its tempting mouth moving with words he could not hear and taunting him in the way only a fantasy could achieve. 

Ted bit down on his cheek, precum beginning to drip from his manhood and create a quiet, wet noise with each slide. He thrust deeper into his hand, hips chasing after his fist and the intoxicating scent of honey that clouded the gold and white countenance which laid just behind his closed eyes.

He squeezed tighter around his cock, imagining that his hands were not his own, and quickened his pace- the lustful sound of his own sex dissolving whatever coherent thoughts he had left. Mouth fell open as the coil behind his navel tightened, back arching like a strung bow as he sped up his hand, hips jerking to meet each stroke. 

His final thrust was met with the visage of soft blonde curls as he spilled over his own hand. Ted’s back arched impossibly high as his orgasm ran through him like the final note of a song, lasting and lingering till his body at last fell limp against the pillows of his bed. The world around Theodore slowly came back into focus, the haze beginning to fade from his mind as he sat up with a weary groan. 

A thin sheen of sweat covered his brow and when he went to wipe it away he stopped only to avoid spreading cum onto his face. The eldest Logan sighed, his fancies already beginning to vanish as reality took hold in his mind once more. He closed his eyes, chest rising and falling in a slowly steadying rhythm. Fatigue began to settle into his limbs, making the act of cleaning himself off an unpleasant chore; but when his hands were clean and his pants buttoned he felt the low buzz of excitement begin to resurface.

Time passed quickly as he recollected himself for it wasn’t long till he heard his father’s voice beckon him loudly from the lower level of the house. Sitting up and brushing the last of his weariness from his clothing, he flung himself towards the door and down the stairs, long limbs lacking any form of grace as he came to a skidding halt in front of the louring Constable. 

“ **_Theodore_ ** _._ ”

He felt his stomach churn.

“Yes, sir?”

“How can you have so little respect for yourself? Running down the stairs like a child, no woman will ever look upon you favorably with such juvenile behaviors.” his father snapped, words making him shrink despite his superior height. No matter how old he was, Theodore’s father never failed to make him feel like a boy again, getting scolded for bringing mud into the house. Before Ted could open his mouth to either apologize or defend himself (most likely the former) Deacon’s footsteps distracted his father long enough that the conversation was reluctantly abandoned. “Master Logan, your carriage is prepared.” The kindly voice of the grey-stubbled steward caught all three men’s attention as he bowed politely, holding the door open to reveal their humble, but well kept, coach. 

Ted followed after his father, slipping away while the Constable discussed something with the driver to give one of the two grey mares a gentle pat on the snout. Ludwig was his favorite horse in their stables and the feeling was most _certainly_ mutual. The tall beast was unpredictable at best and kicked nearly everyone but Ted who had somehow managed to win the favor of the ill-tempered animal. Even now, it pressed its long face against Ted’s formal jacket’s front with a gentle snort, ears flicking as she nuzzled into his chest. 

“ **_Theodore_** **.** We are leaving, stop fraternizing with that damned horse and hurry before we’re late.” 

Ted pressed a quick kiss to the creature’s nose, smiling at the scratchy feeling of the fur and pulled away to find his father and Deacon already comfortably settled into their seats. As expected, his father's balding head was wrinkled with annoyance at the sight of his eldest son. 

“Look at you, you’ve gotten horse hair on every inch of your coat, how can you be so dim? Clean yourself off before you make us late and leave a bad impression.” 

“...yes sir…” Ted mumbled, brows furrowing and a frown bending his lips as he stared at what appeared to be his clean overcoat and pants. Theodore made a feeble effort to clean himself off, falling into his seat and shrinking back before his father hissed out a bitter-

“Stop slouching.” 

Ted could only correct his posture in silence, every inch of his self aching with discomfort while he tried to occupy his mind with something other than his father’s suffocating vexation. Anxiety and despair tossed in his stomach as he bounced his knees and stared out the window at the passing scenery. Desperate for something to divert his attention away from his most unfortunate circumstances, he began to count the numbers of each type of tree they passed. Though he had always found numbers to be tiring, _anything_ was preferable to the miasma of hostility he would be wading through till the grand stone walls of Highfield came into view.

Quietly, he prayed that the capricious Ludwig would quicken her steps. 

* * *

Their pace could not have felt any slower and what was barely over a half hour ride seemed to have stretched for days when their coach finally pulled into the spiraling boulevard that led towards the imposing silhouette of Highfield. Ted felt ready to leap out of his skin, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere inside the carriage. His fingers drummed against his legs as the coach pulled to a stop at the front of the home where a line of servants and guests meandered their way through the grand oaken doors and exchanged cordial greetings in its frame.

Many of the faces were begrudgingly familiar to Ted. Members of society who he had been forced to dine and dance with since he entered adulthood, all of whom looked down upon him with disdain. The lack of favor was requited however, and Theodore was quite content being nothing more to these people than ‘The Constable’s unusual eldest son’. 

When the doors to the carriage finally opened and the flickering light of lanterns illuminated their path, it took every ounce of Ted’s self control not to bolt from their coach and towards the pianoforte. While he knew the likeliness that he’d be given the opportunity to play this evening was slim to none, he still found it a struggle to not fidget unhappily as they were escorted into the impressive ballroom. Theodore craned his neck like a deer in a game hunt, swiveling around in hopes of seeing Bill over the horde of milling socialites only to be yanked down by the harsh gloved hand of his father.

“ _Theodore you will_ **_not_ ** _embarrass me this evening, do you understand? Stand normally and stop acting like such a child- I expect you to dance and speak with every lady here and if I come to find that you have skipped over_ **_any_ ** _eligible young woman I will be quite cross with you. Do you understand_?” his father’s quiet threat combined with the spinning activity of the ballroom made his stomach drop. His mouth went dry and he could only nod, feeling as though he was fraying at the edges like an old cloth, the noises growing impossibly louder and filling him head to toe with a fevered, brittle energy.

The hand on his elbow released and he stood back up, mind frenzied as the bright colorful fabrics and orchestra collided together in his head, leaving him feeling numb and oversensitive all at once. He felt the world spin, pressing his nails to the palms of his hands as he followed lamely behind his father and brother. His greetings were stiff and tacky, responding to questions too long after they had already been asked. He felt like an acorn underfoot- pressure building up into something painful as he tried to rub his hands as subtly against the fabric of his pants as he could. 

Desperate for some sort of stimulation as sweat began to drip down the curve of his spine. He bit his chapped lips, suddenly aware that he’d fallen so far behind his father and Deacon that he could no longer see either man in the crowd. Immediately a panic consumed him. Though he was by no means _fond_ of his father, the lack of a recognizable face meant everything blurred into a painfully bright jumble of colors and noises. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath quickened, tears of frustration beginning to spring to his eyes before-

“Ted!” 

The voice was like a bell of clarity through chaos, and, as though it were second nature, Ted picked out Bill’s brilliant smile in the crowd with impossible ease. As the blonde politely detached from conversation to stride towards him Theodore’s spiraling was halted as was better able to see the details of his friend through the fog of his hysteria.

The cut of his strapping cream suit accentuated his strong and yet elegant figure. With his broad shoulders and chiseled features Bill Preston looked as though he was a greek god brought to life. His curls shimmered gold around bright eyes and even in the mayhem of colors and noises he somehow managed to hold Ted’s undivided focus as though he had been bewitched. 

Ted had not often pondered on the beauty of himself or of others (for it had always felt trivial to him) but in this moment he knew- as confidently as he knew that the sun would always set to the west, William Preston was the by far the most beautiful creature Theodore had ever laid eyes upon. 

Ted longed to smile back, to fall into comfortable conversation as they had before, but his jaw felt heavy as lead and the overwhelming sounds made his eyes burn with unshed tears. The look on his face must’ve been something truly unsettling for without prompt Bill gently grasped his elbow and began to walk. He felt ungainly behind the confident steps of his companion; mind still lost in the fog of entropy as he clung to the warmth of Bill’s hand, blissfully unaware of the stares and whispers of the other partygoers as they retreated. 

Lights and noises passed in blinding flashes and briefly Ted wondered if he should be concerned about where he was being taken, though such thoughts he found hard to humor. He trusted Bill the way a horse trusts its rider and wherever the man led him he would follow, even if he was blind to their destination. 

With a heavy thud a door behind him closed. 

The lights here were dim and the noises of the ballroom quieted to a low thrum of conversation through the walls. As his eyes adjusted, Ted got a better look at the space. It was a cozy tea room, elegantly decorated with couches and partially empty bookshelves. Lights cast a soft orange hue on the tasteful wallpaper and he could vaguely make out the shape of a figure curled up on one of the distant chairs, seemingly asleep.

“I apologize for snatching you away so suddenly. You just looked most _dreadfully_ uncomfortable and I could not bear it.” Bill’s voice was quiet and when Ted glanced down to look at him the sight was one he’d no doubt remember for days to come. 

Bill’s lidded eyes glistened, noble brow pinched together and plush lips pursed as he surveyed the other man with unabashed concern. Once again Theodore was appalled at Bill’s lack of a wife. For surely a man as kind and winsome as he should already have a fulfilling marriage. What could possibly keep such a faultless individual from being wed? Bill’s hand was still gently grasped around his elbow, the touch setting his skin aflame and numbing his mind to everything but the feel of his fingers pressed against Ted’s sleeve. He could only nod his thanks, words still held captive behind clenched teeth. 

“Are you able to speak?” Bill’s voice was dulcet, words hushed in the narrow space between them. Ted shook his head, eyes downcast as shame turned to a thick ball of ink in his stomach, creeping up his throat as though it were a living creature. Prepared for ridicule, his head jerked up when Bill only nodded his understanding and stepped back to guide him towards one of the couches. “That is perfectly alright, Mr. Logan. Please, sit down.” 

The cushions were soft and as he sat, Ted could better see that the shape on the chair was a pretty young woman with her eyes closed, dress wrinkled where she had her knees tucked against her chest. Her hair was blazing ginger, elegantly braided into a crown around her fair skin and delicate features. He felt the air next to him shift and Bill’s voice spoke low against his ear, the feeling of the other man's breath and quiet words made Theodore feel as though his skin had been set ablaze. He stifled the impulse to lean closer, as though coming nearer to the other man would somehow sate the pull in his chest.

“That is my cousin, Joanna” Bill explained quietly, his words barely taking purchase in Ted’s mind as he stared intensely at the space between them. “I’m afraid she doesn’t care too greatly for crowds, the noise gives her the _egregious_ headaches... I’m sure she would not mind if you stayed in here till you feel more comfortable returning to the party.” 

Ted swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding mutely as he watched the strange woman rest peacefully. His tongue still felt limp and heavy, brain uselessly flailing about as his jaw remained sewn shut, refusing to move despite his own desires. He wished he could speak up, he wished he could tell Bill that he’s okay with waiting out his episode on his own and that Mr. Preston should return to his own party but the blonde seemed content to stay with him, leaning back and resting his hand in the space between them. 

“I enjoyed reading your letters, Mr. Logan. It is not so often I find a companion whose interests align so greatly with my own” Ted blinked, confused. He found it hard to believe that the amicable man next to him would struggle to make friends in the slightest. “That’s not to say I’m not popular” he chuckled, though his voice held no humor and when Ted tilted his head to see his friend, Bill was staring at his feet- having shifted to fiddle with his cufflinks absently. 

“I’m afraid my pocketbook is often more attractive than my personality” his words were quiet, barely above a whisper, and despite the third presence in the room it felt like a secret shared between the two of them. Ted felt a deep sadness rear its head. The fact that any person could look at Bill and see only his yearly sum made him feel sick and frustrated. He wanted to comfort him, to say something that would alleviate the tension and bring back that honey-sweet laughter. But his mouth betrayed him, holding his thoughts captive behind his teeth. 

Impulsively, Ted reached over to where Bill’s hand was fidgeting with fabric of his sleeve and gave it a small squeeze, the expensive material wrinkling. They sat in companionable silence for a long moment, Theodore trying to keep his attention on comforting his friend and not the feel of his wide palm beneath his own.

“...Thank you, Mr. Logan” 

“ _Ted_ ” 

Genuinely surprised to hear his own raspy voice, Theodore glanced back down at his lap, pulling his hand away and mumbling shyly. “I far prefer it when you call me Ted.” Bill’s laugh was surprised but he nodded, the light catching his blonde curls and illuminating them into a wild halo around his face. 

Something pulled, confusing and desperate in his chest. It was overwhelming, the hollowness in his stomach- the longing to reach forwards and…. He wasn’t sure _what_ he wanted to do, he only knew that he wanted to do _something_. Ted dodged the feeling, ignoring the twist of his stomach and turned back to see the woman on the couch who had now opened her eyes and was watching them with a raised brow. 

Bill caught her gaze, startled to see her staring back, and smiled sheepishly as though he’d been caught sneaking an extra biscuit from the kitchens. “Joanna, how are you feeling?” he asked, still keeping his voice quiet but speaking a little louder for her sake. The redhead glanced between them a moment before sitting up, giving Theodore a polite nod. 

“Much better, William. Thank you, I’m afraid I must’ve drifted off while I waited for my pains to subside” Bill nodded, smiling and glancing at Ted with a small wave and amicable laugh, “This is my friend, Mr. Theodore Logan. I’m afraid the noises of the ballroom were too loud so I brought him in here so that we may speak without losing both our voices.”

That unfamiliar warmth in Ted’s chest burned a little brighter at Bill’s words, though he had nothing to lose from Ms. Preston knowing the truth of his fit, the fact that Bill made an effort to retain Ted’s reputation made lips quirk into a smile. 

Joanna dipped her head to him and Ted dipped his back, staring down at his hands shyly. The three sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages, Ted tapping his fingers against his lap as some of the nervous tension seeped back into his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how relaxed he had become around Bill until their peace was disturbed and soon he was all too aware of the muted laughter on the other side of the door that he would eventually have to submerge himself in once more. 

Bill shifted next to him, the warmth of his body retreating as he leaned forwards to speak with his cousin, giving Ted the ideal viewpoint to admire the other man’s broad shoulders and narrow waist through his tailored suit. “Is Elizabeth still outside?” Bill questioned, diverting Joanna’s attention. 

“Yes I believe so. She seems to be quite infatuated with one of the boys from town and she’s been toting him around like a purebred puppy the whole evening” Joanna chuckled. With the focus away from him, Theodore was free to examine her features without the worry of being caught. He’d never found himself quite as enthralled with the finer sex as his brother and father but even he could admit that Ms. Joanna Preston was an incredibly attractive woman. Her ginger hair was curly and long, the elegant braids framing smooth, unpainted skin and keen eyes. Even like this, somewhat disheveled with lines on her cheek from sleeping on the cushions, she exuded a powerful presence. While she may be a single woman now, it was no doubt that when she married she would be _the_ lady of the house. 

“So, Mr. Logan. How long have you lived in Tunstead?” being directly addressed made his skin crawl and he hid behind his hair, avoiding her piercing gaze.

“I’ve lived here my entire life.”

“And do you have family here?”

“Yes. My father, and my younger brother. My mother lived with us as well till her passing when I was a boy.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Why? It’s not as though you were familiar with her.” Ted asked honestly, freezing up the moment the words fell from his lips. He winced, waving his hands frantically as he stood, bowing low and apologetically. “I’m sorry, Ms. Preston! That was quite heinous of me, I-” he paused when he noticed the woman was _laughing_. The corners of her eyes crinkled up in the same familiar way Bill’s did and the sight quelled his anxiety marginally. 

“It’s _perfectly_ alright, Mr. Logan. I understand the niceties of conversation are usually less than heartfelt. It is not often one comes to meet someone of such veracity. You and my sweet sister must be cut from the same cloth.” with no hint of malice in her voice he felt his shoulders loosen slightly, gaze darting toward Bill who looked relieved.

“Ted does not mince his words, a most honorable trait is it not?” Bill laughed, glancing between them as Theodore slowly settled back onto the couch- still red faced. 

“Yes, it most certainly is- you were right to speak so highly of him. And with such _passion_ .” Joanna teased, laughing at the mortified sound that escaped her cousin. Ted stared, jaw hanging open in shock. Bill had spoken of him to his cousins? Bill had spoken _kindly_ of him to his cousins? Theodore was unable to stop the large smile that spread only wider as a rosy blush bloomed over Bill’s cheeks, inching down his neck and giving away his true feelings. 

“Be at ease, Bill. I have spoken highly of you to my family as well.” he joked, discomfort fading faster by the second as the three of them fell into easy conversation. 

“You have? My esteemed colleague, I am _honored_ to hear such words.” 

“Well I must amend and say that most of my praises fell upon deaf ears.” 

“Oh? How so?” Joanna chimed in, leaning her elbows on her knees in a way that was quite unladylike but only served to make Theodore all the more fond of her. 

“Well, Bill here is already held in such high esteem by my family that it was not unlike attempting to fill an overflowing cup. Very little of what I could say could belittle their triumphant opinion of you; any kindliness I spoke of is like a grain of sand in an hourglass.” 

Bill huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back onto the couch and sticking his legs out without a hint of decorum, clearly at ease with the company he kept. “Many of Tunstead seem to think that way. I often muse of what sort of heinous acts I may commit to change their minds.” he mused, waggling his eyebrows mischievously . 

“My dear cousin you could dance _nude_ in the town square and they would only sing praises of your skill in the foxtrot.” This made all three break into laughter, the room feeling safe as it was filled with playful humor and comfortable jest. The sound of the party grew suddenly louder as the door to the hall swung open, filling the room with harsh noise and light as Ted stood habitually, turning to see a petite brunette woman make her way inside with a big smile and confident stride. 

“William! Joanna! I expected to find you both in here-” she balked suddenly when her eyes caught sight of the straight-backed Theodore, looking as though he was prepared for a scolding. The woman smiled and gave an embarrassed curtsey, shadowed by Theodore’s own stiff bow. 

“Elizabeth! Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Theodore Logan, we came in here to avoid the crowds and I’m afraid our conversing must’ve stretched on quite long if you’ve come to look for us.” Bill stood, looking towards Ted who was staring very intently at his scuffed dress boots. 

“Oh no such thing! I’ve only stepped away for a brief moment to rest, the people of Tunstead are _quite_ friendly and they do _so_ love to dance.” as Elizabeth came closer she grinned, giving Ted an inquisitive, but friendly, once-over. 

“So you are the famous Mr. Logan! I must admit I have been eagerly looking forward to making your acquaintance since hearing about you from William, he speaks very highly of your playing on the pianoforte.” Ted felt his mind reeling from the familiarity she spoke to him with, not an ounce of mocking in her tone. Her brown eyes were doe-like but sparkled with devilment and Ted would not have been surprised to learn that she had been something of a rogue in her earlier youth. Theodore nodded, hiding a smile behind his hair as the smaller woman came close, looking up at him as she waved her hands enthusiastically. The flapping motion and gentle bounce on her toes were familiar to him and immediately he deemed her a kindred spirit.

“I’m not as skilled on the claviature as I’d like to be- I’m afraid I just don’t have the patience to sit still and learn the subtleties of instruments. Or painting… or sewing.. Or gardening-” 

“Or holding your tongue apparently” chimed Joanna. Elizabeth seemed unbothered by her sister’s comment but still curtseyed bashfully.

“My apologies, Mr. Logan. My tongue often moves faster than my common sense”

“It’s okay! I find it quite pleasurable that you talk a lot” Ted blurted out, not realizing the crassness of his words. The unintentional affront appeared to go right over her head instead she was occupied with her learning more about new friend. She bounced up onto her toes excitedly; her enthusiasm was contagious as Ted found himself copying her, his own hands beginning to flap against his thighs in a mirror of her own. 

The four spoke with great rapport, a surprisingly comfortable dynamic settling in place as they discussed everything from music to local gossip (most of which was facilitated by Ms. Elizabeth who had, despite only being in Tunstead for a day, had already gotten the details on the most recent scandals). The night had turned from one filled with anxiety to something of great joy and satisfaction and, for the briefest of moments, Theodore wondered if this was how it felt to be among friends… 

No member of their party was aware of just how long they had been chatting till the polite voice of a servant cleared their throat. “Master Preston? A few members of the ball are asking for your whereabouts, perhaps you should join them for a dance?” Bill glanced up, expression falling slightly as he sighed, thanking the steward before looking to his cousins and Ted. 

“Are any of you in good enough spirits to join me?” Though the question was general, his gaze remained on Theodore, eyes hopeful. As the two ladies nodded and stood Ted felt a hint of anxiety creep into his stomach but he nodded, standing and brushing himself off as he followed the three towards the door. Joanna and Elizabeth walked ahead of them, already out into the hall and headed towards the ballroom while Bill stayed behind to walk next to Ted. He spoke quietly and with a kind smile. “Should you need to, that room is open for you to use whenever you so desire it, my friend.” Ted hummed, cutting short his usually long strides so that Bill would be able to keep up. 

“A most triumphant offer” Ted pointed out, pursing his lips impishly and missing the way it drew the other man’s gaze to them. 

“Well, forgive my candor, Ted, but you are a _most_ _triumphant_ associate.'' The words made Theodore’s face go red and he was too distracted by the warmth in his cheeks to feel anything but goodwill as they returned to the lively party. He followed next to the blonde man like a devoted dog, finding himself surprisingly at ease despite the loud noises and occasional person brushing past him. In fact, his discomfort was almost completely forgotten until he saw a shiny bald head, beaded with furious sweat, approach him through the crowd. His stomach dropped as he father gained on him, stopping just short of smacking his eldest son in the chest to glare up at him. 

“ _Theodore_ where the devil _were you_ . I have had three or four lovely young ladies request your presence, and here you are having dogtrotted away to do _god knows what_ and-”

“My apologies, Constable Logan. I’m afraid I was preoccupied with introducing Theodore to my cousins.” Bill spoke up suddenly, taking a step forwards to crowd the older man as he smiled with strained politeness. Unbidden, the words ‘knight in shining armor’ came to mind. The Constable’s rage faltered as he became painfully aware that he was being watched critically by Mr. Preston and the two ladies. Joanna’s face remained impassive but Elizabeth’s brows scrunched together in clear distaste as Bill put a stiff hand on the Constable’s shoulder. 

“Oh… Mr. Preston- I apologize I was not aware that-” 

“It is all very well, Constable. I apologize for stealing away your son when he is clearly in such high demand. Though it pains them, I am sure Ms. Joanna and Ms. Elizabeth would be able to surrender his company back to you and whichever ladies have sought him out.” 

Theodore’s father looked like a fish on land, mouth opening and closing as his wide eyes stared back at Bill, alarmed by the levity with which he spoke such underhanded words. Constable Logan’s gaze turned to Ted, floundering for a moment still before he closed his mouth and nodded stiffly, not used to being so quickly brought down.

“No, Mr. Preston, it is no trouble at all. Please, retain my son’s company so long as you desire. I shall inform the... other ladies that he is currently preoccupied.” his father’s words were stiff and his stance unassertive. It was a sight that Theodore had never seen before and as his father bowed and turned away reluctantly to skulk back into the crowd he couldn’t help the nervous giggle that escaped him. 

“Mr. Logan I mean no insult to you or your family but I do think the Constable is a dreadful ass” Elizabeth blurted out, her words earning her a sharp elbow and quiet scolding from her sister. 

“No need to apologize, Ms. Preston.” Ted said quietly, his jovial mood dampened as he rubbed his hands on his legs nervously. The air between them remained tense and restless until Joanna clapped her hands together suddenly, gaining the attention of everyone in their little party and a few stragglers nearby. 

“Let us be merry! We are at our own ball, surely we owe it to ourselves to partake in some of the festivities? Mr. Logan- do you dance?” Joanna took a step forward, threading her arm through his and smiling. Theodore nodded shyly, glancing over his shoulder as he was led away from Bill. 

“Yes, though I am afraid I am not very good at it. My legs are too long and my feet are prone to stepping on that of my partner’s.” Joanna laughed and gave him a gentle pat. “Worry not, Mr. Logan I assure you I will take no insult if you do. That is, if you accept my proposition to join me?” 

Theodore considered her request a brief second, eyes glancing towards the quickly gathering crowd of dancers as the band strung up for their next song. Were he to dance with one of Bill’s cousins his father would no doubt have at least _some_ joyful spirit and that meant the Constable would refrain from pestering his eldest son for the rest of the night at least.

His hesitant nod was met with a warm squeeze to his arm as Joanna led him out onto the floor, people parting for them with polite bows as she gestured for the band. Ted struggled with social cues but even _he_ was not so dim as to miss the shocked whispers of the other guests as they watched him exchange comfortable words with Ms. Preston. Theodore was a notoriously odd young man and to see him so quickly gain the favor of such high society was unprecedented. 

The music began to start up, Theodore flanked on either side by various couples as he stared across the few feet to where Joanna was standing, an encouraging smile on her delicate features. Ted let himself follow Joanna’s lead, having not exaggerated about his own clumsiness, as she led him through a simple waltz. Absently, Ted traced the music in his mind- unable to stop himself from nitpicking the slight mistakes of the piano player’s keys with a small frown. 

“William says you are quite fond of music?” she spoke, her voice conversational as his eyes flicked back up to hers, unaware that they had lowered to monitor his feet with a scowl. 

“Yes. I play mostly the pianoforte and the english guitar- though I’ve always been partial to the former.” She stared at something over his shoulder, brows raised playfully to something (or perhaps someone) that he was blind to before speaking again. 

“It would be lovely if you were to join us next Saturday for tea. My dearest cousin has done nothing but sing the praises of your musical aptitude since our arrival this morning and I must say my interest has been piqued.” as they turned in a graceful twirl, Theodore was finally privy to the view he had been denied of seconds ago. Bill was staring at him from across the room- ignoring his clearly unhappy dance partner to instead watch Theodore with pursed lips. As their eyes met, his face brightened and the blonde enthusiastically waved, his lack of attention earning him a rough kick in the shin that looked purposeful despite his partner’s sweet-voiced apologies. 

Looking back to the patiently waiting Joanna, Ted bobbed a bit, bouncing on his toes and stumbling on the rhythm in his excitement. “Yes! That sounds most agreeable, Ms. Preston. I would consider it an honor to join your family!” he grinned, only to balk, embarrassed “-FOR TEA I MEAN!” 

His nervous stumbling of words was met with a soft laugh and a gentle pat of Joanna’s gloved hand, eyes sparking with humor as Ted’s gaze slipped away to meet Bill’s with a huge grin. Her words fell on nearly deaf ears as the song came to a close, Theodore already taking steps away to speak with Bill and tell him of his upcoming visit. As Joanna slipped back towards the edges of the gathering, her gaze landed on Elizabeth, who was batting her lashes innocently at some poor boy in an ill-fitting suit. 

Joanna smiled, leaning against a wall and thanking a waiter for the glass of wine she was handed with a polite nod. Nearby sweet William was looking up at Mr. Logan as though he’d hung the sun in the sky, the two chatting excitedly about something she could not hear. She took a contemplative sip from her glass, the music framing her thoughts as she people watched long into the evening. When her sister finally came to her side, looking rosy cheeked and pink-lipped the two fell into companionable silence- watching while their cousin remained enraptured in conversation with his new….. _friend._

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to notice the line of women waiting to dance with them?” Elizabeth giggled, stealing away Joanna’s half-empty glass to take a sip. 

“Elizabeth, I do not think those two would notice the ballroom catching on fire so long as they were in each other’s presence.”


End file.
